Falling for Marigold
by Daisy Wilson
Summary: Spoilers- season 5 How Robert comes to love Marigold
1. Chapter 1

Falling for Marigold

A/N: SPOILERS S5E8. I loved the moment when it all came together for Robert and I love the way that he asked Cora if Marigold was their granddaughter. This will be a multi-chapter fic since I have until Christmas to finish it Reviews and feedback are always welcome!

OOO

After Robert learned the truth about little Marigold, he took the rest of the day to reflect on the observations he had made about the little girl and his middle daughter. Edith was obviously devoted to the child; she loved her with that all-consuming love that parents have for their children, the same love he felt four times over, once for each of his girls and once for the little boy who was buried under an oak tree in the family cemetery. He was curious though, curious about Marigold and even more curious of how she came to be and where she had been tucked away since her birth. He suspected that Cora knew the answers but he felt that they should really come from Edith. He wasn't angry that he hadn't been informed earlier; he had a hunch that not even Cora had known the truth until recently.

After dinner that night, he stopped off at the nursery, something he did on occasion. He quietly crept in and checked each little bed, tucking in blankets and smoothing down hair; first Sybbie, then George, and finally, little Marigold. She bore a resemblance to Michael Gregson but there was also quite a lot of Edith in her as well. The strawberry blond curls took him back to a time, long, long ago when Edith was tiny. He saw her toy bear under the edge of the cot and he quietly picked it up and tucked it under the little girl's arm.

"Papa, what are you doing in here?" Edith whispered from the door. She was dressed for bed and was clearly coming to conduct one final bed check before going to sleep.

"I came to check on my grandchildren," he replied as he walked out of the nursery. "All three are safe and sound."

Edith looked at her father with a cocked head. "What did you say?"

"I was checking on my grandchildren and all three are safe and sound. You are a devoted mother, Edith." He kissed his daughters forehead. "When you feel ready, I will listen to your story. In case you're wondering, your mama only confirmed my suspicions. Sleep well, my darling."

OOO

The next morning, Edith came down for breakfast and found her father and brother-in-law chatting in the dining room.

"Well, I'm off. I have to meet with the builders to discuss the renovation timeline," Tom said as he put down his napkin.

"We'll talk this afternoon, Tom," Robert nodded as he folded the paper.

Tom smiled at Edith and left the two alone.

"Did you sleep well, my darling?" Robert asked as he took a sip of his tea.

"I did, thank you. If you don't have anything pressing, might you join me for a walk this morning?"

"Of course," Robert nodded. "Eat your breakfast and we'll go for a walk, just the two of us."

"Thank you papa," she smiled.

OOO

Once they were a distance from the house, Edith started to talk.

"How did you puzzle it out?"

"There was something about Marigold, a familiarity that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Then, after the memorial dedication, I saw the two of you and it all came together. I asked your mother and she confirmed it. I must say, it's nice not being the last to know for a change."

"Quite," she nodded.

"Given the timeline of events, I gather Gregson did not know?"

"Michael had gone to Germany to seek a divorce. You see, his wife is quite mad and under British law, he couldn't divorce her. German law is different. He was going to become a citizen and apply for a divorce in Germany. Then, we could have married," she explained.

"When did you fall pregnant?"

"Just before he left. He was leaving so we could be together so I thought…it was only once," she stammered.

"And once was all it took," he nodded. "She was born while you were in Switzerland, wasn't she?"

"Yes. At first, I thought, maybe I wouldn't have her at all…"

"Edith?" Robert gasped. "That could have gotten you in far more trouble."

"I went to the clinic but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't kill Michael's child; I loved him. I still love him. I told Aunt Rosemund and in turn, Grannie and they made the plans for us to go to Switzerland."

Then it dawned on him, "The condition that Sybil had, Eclampsia, you didn't…"

"I was perfectly healthy and so was Marigold," she assured.

"You could have died, just like Sybil, and we would have been none the wiser until a telegram arrived." He reached for his daughter's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank God you were both spared. But where has she been all this while?"

"At first, the plan was for me to have her adopted by a family, but I couldn't do that. I left her in Switzerland but it ate at me so after Rose's debut, I went back and got her. She then went to live with the Drewes', Mr. Drewe knew the whole story but his wife didn't. It became harder and harder to have her so close yet so far away at the same time. So, I made up the story to get her back with me at Downton."

"When did your mother learn of this?"

"Not long ago; just after I got the confirmation of Michael's death and I went to London. Mama and Aunt Rosemund found us and she came up with the plan to bring her back."

"I see. Well my girl, I can't say things will be easy for you as a single mother. I'm not sure if I'll be able to make a good match for you."

"It's alright papa; I'm a woman of independent means now, Michael saw to that. I have my child and I have no need for a husband and should a man come along some day, he shall have to accept Marigold or he shan't have me," she affirmed.

"Well, you and Marigold shall have a home here at Downton for as long as is required."

"Thank you papa!" Edith exclaimed as she hugged her father.


	2. Penny Lick

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely comments and for following the story! As an author, it's nice to see that others get as much enjoyment from reading my stories as I do from writing them. As always, these characters are not mine, they belong to Uncle Julian and his entourage. I know we don't know Robert's father's name so in this fic, I've opted to use the very English name of Edward.

OOO

Robert and Edith returned to the house with her holding on to her father's arm. Cora was coming down the stairs and she smiled at the sight. She knew Edith often felt like she wasn't as loved as her sisters but it simply wasn't true. Sybil had been the baby and needed so much of Cora, especially when she was small and Robert was away in South Africa. Mary's temperament necessitated a lot; high strung and high maintenance were two terms that could be readily applied to the oldest child of Earl and Countess of Grantham. But Edith, Cora reflected, was oddly enough, a blend of her grandfathers. She had Edward Crawley's knack for truly wanting to help others and Isadore Levinson's passion and kindness. She wasn't as pragmatic as Mary and not as much as a free spirit as Sybil had been. But, Edith was carving her own path and making her own way in the world. She was determined to be successful. In some ways, Edith was the most American of her three children and Cora often wondered if she wouldn't have fared better on the other side of the Atlantic.

"Have you two been out walking?" Cora asked as she kissed her husband.

"We have. We also had a lovely chat," Edith smiled. "Thank you Papa." She leaned in and kissed his cheek as well. "I have an article I need to finish and I've been sent some documents to review. I'll see you both at luncheon." She took off her hat and made her way upstairs.

"I wonder if we shouldn't find a space for Edith to write, an office of some sort?" Robert asked his wife. "With running the magazine, she'll need a work area. Something big enough that little Marigold could play in there as well from time to time."

"I'm sure Edith would appreciate that. Why don't you ask her at luncheon?"

"I think I will. Now you, my darling bride, what are you about today?"

OOO

That afternoon, when the children were brought into the library, Robert gave his customary kisses to Sybbie and George but also included Marigold this time.

"Hello Darlings," he smiled at children.

"Hello Donk," Sybbie smiled.

"Hello Donk," George grinned.

Little Marigold simply waved at him.

"I'll take a wave over Donk any day," he grinned as he picked up the smallest of the three children. "How are you today, Miss Marigold?" he asked as he sat down with her on his lap. Robert proceeded to tickle and chat with the toddler until Sybbie and George requested a game of Snakes and Ladders. Robert dutifully sat on the floor opposite Sybbie and George with Marigold looking on from his lap.

"You know, I don't have any meetings tomorrow, perhaps, if you three agree, I'll take the children on an outing tomorrow."

"An outing?" Tom asked incredulously.

"I'll have you know I took the girls on outings once a week when they were small," Robert defended.

"1st week of the month was the sweet shop in village, 2nd was the tea shop in Ripon, 3rd was the toy shop in Thirsk and the 4th a trip to the book seller in Ripon," Cora listed. "And heaven help him if he had to postpone a week," she grinned. "He had to go to London once and missed taking the girls for ice cream. Sybil and Edith wouldn't speak to him for a week."

"He is quite capable, Tom," Mary grinned. "He only lost Sybil once."

Edith chuckled at the memory. "What was it that caught her eye? A dog?"

"No, it was a doll in a shop window. How she managed to get across the street without getting run down, all never know," Robert smiled sadly. Sybil's loss was something he still felt keenly.

"What do you think, children? Should Grandpapa take you for ice cream tomorrow?" Robert asked the children.

"That would be lovely, Donk," Sybbie smiled.

OOO

True to his word, Robert did take all three children for ice cream. More than one of the villagers smiled at the grandfather as he wrangled three small children. They quartet went into Mr. Peters' shop and were soon standing in front of the case, eye the jars and jars of brightly colored candy.

"A chocolate ice cream for George and Sybbie and Marigold, would you like chocolate or vanilla?" Robert asked the child.

"Vanilla, please," she whispered.

"And a vanilla for Marigold and myself," he ordered.

This was where he made his fatal mistake. Instead of occupying the small table, he let the children take their ice creams outside. Between trying to navigate three children with three ice creams, his own penny lick and the door, it was not surprising that something got dropped and the something was his ice cream all down the front of his suite. He bit back the curse words and satisfied himself with a firm, "Blasted!"

Sybbie and George looked at their grandfather and started to laugh. Robert sheparded them to a bench and tried to tidy himself. He managed to get most off with his handkerchief but Bates was going to have some extra work on his hands.

"Well at least you three got ice cream," he huffed playfully.

Sybbie and George continued to chuckle but the joking tone was lost on little Marigold.

"Share?" she said softly as she extended the cone to Robert.

"Thank you Lady Marigold, that's most kind." He obliged the little girl and gave the cone a lick. And it was in that single gesture that Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, started to fall in love with a little girl.


	3. Spots

A/N: It's been great seeing all the feedback and hits for the story! Makes my day! As always, I own nothing. This chapter has been reposted because of all the typos. Sorry, my stuff is both unbata'd and written with my 6 month old son trying to see what I'm doing.

Spots

It all started when Sybbie broke out in spots one Thursday morning. By that afternoon, George and Marigold had them as well and the doctor was called. Mary, Robert and Edith were all in London for an assortment of meetings. Tom was needed at the estate to oversee the arrival of some new farming equipment which left Tom and Cora at Downton with the children.

"It's chicken pox," he declared as he closed his bag.

"That's none so bad; the girls had them when Lord Grantham was in South Africa," Cora explained.

"I had them as well," Tom nodded.

"Me too," Cora affirmed. "But the difficulty is that Lord Grantham has not."

"He hasn't?" Both men asked.

"He has not; this could prove to be very interesting."

OOO

Mary, Robert and Edith arrived home Saturday afternoon.

"Are you feeling alright, darling?" Cora asked as she touched her husband's face. He was pale and a bit sweaty.

"He was ill on the train." Edith informed. "Where are the children?"

"In bed, they have the chicken pox," Cora explained. "The doctor has been and Marigold is the least affected. George and Sybbie are pretty miserable though."

"I'm going up to check on her," Edith informed.

"I'm coming with. You better go to bed, Donk. You were playing with them every day for the past few weeks," Mary smiled, knowing full well how insufferable her father was then he was ill.

"Don't call me Donk," he groaned before starting to rub his eyes.

"You might want to ask Bates if he's had them. I'll wager £50 that he's covered in spots before sundown tomorrow," Mary smirked before walking upstairs.

"Come along darling, I'll play valet and run you a bath," Cora said as she took his hand and led him upstairs.

OOO

Sure enough, by Sunday afternoon, Dr. Clarkson had been called back to the Abbey and the Countess of Grantham's bedroom where the then diagnosed the same illness in Lord Grantham.

"I'm 55 years old, how does this happen?" he moaned.

"I'm not quite sure, Your Lordship. Most people don't make it to your age without having had them," the Scot smirked. "Same instructions as with the children; send for me if his fever gets very high." He left a miserable Robert and an amused Cora.

"Let's get you settled into a warm bath and I'll get your pajamas and let Bates know he won't be needed tonight."

"Alright," he mumbled pathetically.

OOO

Bates, sensibly, had the chicken pox at the ripe old age of 8 as Cora was to find out when she asked him that evening when he came to get up to Robert's room.

"His Lordship will be sleeping in my room so please tell Baxter to bring up two breakfast trays in the morning. I'll shoo his Lordship into his dressing room to get cleaned up and changed into fresh pajamas when she comes up to dress me. He won't be going down for dinner for a while or doing much of anything, really."

"I'll keep a fresh supply of books, newspapers and pajamas at the ready," Bates smiled.

"Thank you so much, Bates. His Lordship is more difficult than the three children put together when he's ill."

"I have no doubt, Your Ladyship."

OOO

Robert tossed and turned through the night. Cora would periodically check him for fever by gently placing a kiss on his head. He grumbled about the pain in his head. He complained about the itchy spots on his back, specifically those between his shoulder blades that he could not itch. He didn't want tea. He didn't want water. Then, he only wanted the sweet cold tea that Cora sometimes had made, iced tea, she called it. American, he groused. He did not want broth, he did not want a sandwich and was completely insulted when a bowl of porridge was placed in front of him.

"I'm not still in the nursery," he whined.

"Then stop acting like it," Cora grumbled under her breath. "I have a few errands to run in the village."

"Can't you send Baxter?" he complained with a pout on his face.

"I need a change of scenery," she said as she kissed his head. "Would you like anything?"

"A bag of licorice sticks and a copy of that new Sherlock Holmes book, if you can find it," he instructed.

"Alright my darling." She kissed his head and walked out of her room. She leaned up against the wall and let out an exasperated sigh.

"How is he?" Mary asked.

"I'm going to the village. If I stayed in that room another minute, I would have a meeting with the hangman."

"That well is he?"

"I wonder if Nanny will trade charges?"

"Not for all the money in the exchequer," Mary smiled.

"Now, if you will excuse me, His Lordship has requested licorice and a novel."

OOO

Robert fell asleep and when he awoke, he was not alone.

"Grandpapa ill?" little Marigold asked.

"Grandpapa is ill, yes my darling."

"Mari-gold make," she said as she held up a picture.

Robert took the picture and smiled. "What is it?"

He had learned long ago never to assume what a child was trying to represent in their artwork. It was terribly easy for one to guess wrong and tears would ensue.

"Flower n a doggy," the toddler explained while pointing to the yellow and red scribbles.

"I've never seen better," he said as he lifted her up on to the bed. He noticed a book under her little arm. "Would you like Grandpapa to read you a story?"

The little girl nodded and curled into her grandfather's arms. Robert gently tucked the little girl into the bed next to him and took the story book from her.

"The Collected Works of Beatrix Potter," he read the cover. "You know I used to read these stories to your mummy when she was small?"

Robert started with the story of Peter Rabbit and was partway through the tale of Benjamin Bunny when Cora arrived back armed with sweets, novel and a renewed patience for her husband. The scene melted her heart.

"Is there room for one more?" she called quietly from the door.

"Of course; now Marigold, I'll have you know that Granny Cora does the very best voices for Jemima Puddleduck. Let's make some room for her."

Cora crawled into the bed and handed the bag of sweets to her husband.

"Would you like a sweetie, Marigold?" Robert asked as he offered her one.

The little girl nodded vigorously, so much so her curls bobbed.

"Robert, she'll spoil her lunch," Cora scolded.

"I'm her grandfather, I can feed her sweets if I like," he scoffed. "Now Granny Cora, hadn't you better start reading?"


End file.
